


The pub in Varese, Italy.

by katy15307



Series: Short Story Thingies [1]
Category: Beady Eye, Oasis (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 18:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5427218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katy15307/pseuds/katy15307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe is having a quiet pint, studying for her university course when she is joined by Liam Gallagher.(October 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The pub in Varese, Italy.

I was sat in a pub in Varese, Italy. It was a cosy little one, well decorated, very old-fashioned and traditional. I’d only been here a few weeks and I’d already adopted it as my pub. It was a world away from the English student pubs I was used to.  
I’d been nursing a pint of shandy for a while, minding my own business. Quite literally since I was on my tablet reading a journal article for my latest assignment for the University of Insubria.  
My university’s international exchange program had allowed me to study there for a term and I was loving it in Italy but I didn’t know anyone so I spent a lot of time alone, dedicated to my work. So here I was, even in the pub I couldn’t leave my reading alone.  
“Mind if I sit?” I heard a male ask, he sounded pretty distinctly Mancunian.  
The place was pretty empty, there was no need to share booths. It was pretty unusual to see a pub this empty especially when there was a match on, Juventus vs Bologna.  
“Yeah, mate.” I replied absently without even losing the line I was reading.  
The table wobbled as he sat and put his drink down so I flicked a very quick look at him. He was a long dark haired, blue eyed, Mod revivalist type.  
I hadn’t expected to meet anyone from England, nevermind Manchester but I was being such a nerd that I wasn’t interested in him.  
“What you reading?” he asked after taking a drink   
“Stuff for my Cultural Tourism course.” I didn’t think he’d be interested enough for me to explain the reading in much detail. “I’m only here til Christmas.”  
“You’re at the uni, here?” He was either impressed or intimidated by the fact that I was a student.  
I nodded and turned my tablet off knowing I wasn’t going to be able to concentrate with him sat there so there was no point trying.  
“D’you know Italian then?”  
“Si chiede un sacco di domande, bambino.” I answered, you ask a lot of questions, kid.   
“I’m not a kid, I’m friggin’ older than you for a start.” he replied, I was certain the only word he’d understood was bambino, kid.  
I sipped my pint and had a good look at him, trying to work out why he sounded so familiar, I was sure it wasn’t simply because we were from geographically similar hometowns.  
He looked exactly like Liam Gallagher or at least I thought he did, I wasn’t exactly an Oasis/ Beady Eye uber-fan. There was no way it was actually him. Liam was probably bogged down in his court case in New York, he definitely wasn’t here, with me.  
“I didn’t say you were a kid, I just… forget it.” Maybe he wasn’t even a Mancunian afterall. I quickly moved the conversation on. “Since you’re sat with me, we should probably know each other’s names.”  
“Liam, you?” What a liar.  
“Chloe.” I answered, being honest. “What brings you to Italy then?” I asked before having a proper drink of my pint, I’d had it too long so it didn't’ taste so good anymore..  
“I’m after buying a racehorse and the Italians make decent pizza.” he answered.  
I nodded, it was as good a reason as any. “D’you own many horses?”  
My question was ignored because at that moment Juventus scored, I hadn’t been watching, I didn’t even know what league they were playing in. People jumped and cheered at their second goal (it was now Juventus 2-1 Bologna) even “Liam” jumped a bit, knocking the table enough to spill my drink. He’d accidentally punched his over too.  
I had to quickly grab my tablet to save it from the spilt booze. “Well done.” I told him, not impressed.   
I got napkins from the menu stand and quickly mopped up the table.  
“I played for them though.” he justified.  
I couldn’t stop myself from smirking at that one. “No, you didn’t.”   
“Did.” he insisted as he took my tablet from my hand.  
He googled the evidence before passing the tablet back to me so I could watch the Youtube video he’d found to prove his point.  
“D’you want a drink? he offered as he got to his feet. “Yours looks a bit stale and mine’s a bit all over the table.”  
“Please, I’ll drink anything.” I answered politely.  
“One pint of piss coming up.” he grinned before walking to the bar.  
I watched the video he’d brought up while he was gone. Liam Gallagher had definitely played a match at juventus’ stadium (a charity match) but I still didn’t believe he was him. I googled “Liam Gallagher” for news, for something that would place his whereabouts but there was nothing remotely recent.  
I looked at him as he ordered comparing him to pictures on google images, he wasn’t just similar, he was exactly alike but he didn’t seem to have that famous Liam Gallagher attitude about him, he was calm and kind of nice.  
“Fresh from Mr Mario’s tap.” he said as he placed my golden coloured pint (I guessed it was Lager or some pale Ale but he didn’t say) in front of me.  
That was both quite racist and disgusting. I put on a face of disgust before not being able to stop myself from chuckling.   
“How much does a pint of piss cost here?” I asked when I’d recovered.  
“Couple of Euros.” he guessed, he had money, he didn’t care how much it had cost or at least that’s what he wanted me to think.   
I went to grab some money from my purse to pay him back but he refused. “I bought it, you drink it, no paybacks.”  
The TV suddenly caught his attention. “Grab your glass, quick.” he advised moments before Juventus scored their third (about ten minutes after the second) and he jumped again.  
“Sit down, man. You’re not even watching properly.” I told him since he was only interested when goals were coming in.  
“Well it’s not City, is it?” he asked as he sat down sulkily.  
My heart went mad for a moment as I finally accepted I was sat having a pint with Liam Gallagher. “When’s the reunion?” The question forced itself from my mouth before I could stop it.  
He was quiet for a while deciding on an answer, maybe I’d hurt him, reminded him of the answer or he was simply sick of being asked. I was about to break the silence and tell him to forget it when he spoke.  
“Not this year.” his purposely vague, mysterious answer frustrated me.  
Obviously he couldn’t tell me if it was happening, I knew that, I wasn’t stupid. Chloe, the random girl in a pub in Varese couldn’t be trusted with internet breaking information like that.  
“You can at least tell me, the wibbling rivalry thing, it’s media bullshit, right?” I asked using the title of an interview he and his brother did back in 1994 to describe their supposed fiery relationship.  
He smiled and nodded.   
“We don’t see each other much but it’s just how we are, I don’t visit our brother Paul much either but everyone takes it to mean there’s still shit between me and Noel.” he explained. “We don’t ring each other or meet up or whatever still thinking “Oasis would still be fucking going if you weren’t a dickhead that night.” It’s been years and you just can’t fucking do that with your brother… and Mam wouldn’t allow it.”  
I smirked, it was a long, long time since my Mum had, had to force me and my siblings to reconcile but I knew exactly what he meant.   
I wasn’t sure when the last time I’d spent time with any of my siblings or even phoned them, it wasn’t out of the ordinary not to be close to your family even if the media couldn’t accept it.   
“So you and Noel are fine but not working together any time soon?”  
“Yeah, I mean he’s still a cunt but we’re good.” I thought he’d say that “Have you heard his High Flying Birds? It’s way better than what Oasis ended up making.”


End file.
